Friday, September 14, 2001

Sunset Park, Brooklyn

Kelly Cutaia, who used to work for Deutchesbank in the WTC, said one of her co-workers/friends was found in the hospital today with a skull fracture. She’d been unconscious until today and without ID, and that was why nobody could find her. The first really excellent news I’ve heard in some time. I hope Majilique’s sister turns up that way. I’m almost afraid to look at the list. In the midst of all of this, the optometrist called and said my glasses were ready. I was somehow not in any huge hurry to pick them up. I’ve probably got a package sitting on my desk with a new velvet jacket in it, and I don’t care much.

Kelly’s another close-call story, as is her husband. She had a dentist’s appointment down there at 8:30, and her gym is in the building as well, but she broke her hand three days ago and canceled both appointments. Joe works across the street, and was coming up out of the Cortlandt Street N/R subway stop when the first plane hit. He wound up walking all the way to Grand Central from there, staggering through the dust-choked air with an oxygen tank and a blanket to get a train home to the Bronx.

Heard from Adrienne, and old friend from college, last night. She was finally able to get through on the phones from Pittsburgh. Her grandmother is dying in the midst of all of this, so she’s been spending a lot of time in church anyway. She’s been trying to keep her two little boys away from the TV just because it’s far too frightening for them. Frank, while tooling around in the Miata with the top down, ran into a guy with a truck who was on his way to NYC and had gotten lost. Apparently, Frank was a little hesitant to give the guy directions until he said that he was bringing in supplies. No way to tell unless you search the truck, but it’s not like he’d have gotten over the bridges anyway without that. Adrienne seemed relieved when I told her that.

Carole, my cousin in Traverse City, tells me via e-mail that she’s been trying to get through on the phone for days. Called Mom and Dad again. I’m going to try to get home for Dad’s surgery, but God knows if I can get a plane out of here, or if I want to fly. I’m going to try to take the train, I think, but I can’t get into Amtrak’s site to find out how close they go, or how much it is, or how long the trip is.

Made a huge pot of ratatouille with all the veggies I bought yesterday. Between that and sesame noodles, I should be fine for the rest of the week. On the other hand, cooking is at least productive and would keep me occupied. I should make bread, now that the weather’s cool enough to turn on the oven. Maybe focaccia to go with the ratatouille.

Heard on the radio that the management of Grand Central Station is tearing down the missing person flyers people post there. I can’t even say how angry that makes me.

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9-11 Journal Notes & Links

A Quick NoteThis is a limited journal of the two weeks after the attacks on the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001. There are also follow-up entries from the anniversaries. More entries about life after 9-11 can be found at Spawn of Blogorrhea. For a longer, rawer version of this journal, you can e-mail me.